


Out Like a Light

by jinx22



Category: I Was Born for This - Alice Oseman
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Talks at 4am, Eventual Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Listers POV, M/M, just communicate foolish boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29821032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinx22/pseuds/jinx22
Summary: Four times Lister Bird kissed Jimmy Kaga-Ricci and the one time he didn't.
Relationships: Allister "Lister" Bird/Jimmy Kaga-Ricci
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Out Like a Light

**Author's Note:**

> CW for Chapter 3 - Lister's POV from the bathroom kiss in the book includes implied alcohol abuse, and also a slight non consensual kiss that they share from that scene. Nothing that wasn't in IWBFT already.
> 
> Also, I listened to "Out Like a Light 2" on repeat while I wrote this. Would recommend!! 
> 
> Also much love out to @paintedstudy (who's Bicci fics also have me REELING with excitement) @half_of_twelve and @iamthedonutdrawcat for letting me ramble to them all at ungodly hours of the morning about this ship.

**(Age 14)**

It had been Jimmy's idea that the three of us should cram onto the one bike, yet I still felt responsible when the bike toppled over. 

I can't even feel my own pain. I'm only worried for Jimmy, who had been sitting on top of the handlebars, basically flying off when the old bike fell to pieces after going over a rock on the road.

"Jimmy!" Rowan calls out, jumping to his feet immediately despite his own cuts and bruises, to run over. I crawl to my knees soon after, shooting a glare towards the rickety old thing before turning back to the others. Rowan doesn’t look very hurt at all, but Jimmy had smears of blood across his elbows and knees, his shoes scuffed and jeans ripped. His lips are wobbling too, and him and Rowan are talking in low voices to each other as Rowan goes through his bag for bandaids. 

Jimmy’s cradling his wrist, eyes watering. Mine start to water too, but I quickly wipe them away, feeling ridiculous. How could I have been so stupid? Of course the bike would break, it was so old! Practically falling apart even without the three of us on it. 

I sniffle again, feeling fresh tears spilling from my eyes and feeling my stomach twist up in my gut. My heart hurts, like its- it’s breaking, or aching, or something. I don’t really understand it. Don’t understand how Rowan can sit there so composed, placing bandaids over Jimmy’s wounds and making him laugh despite the pain.

Jimmy winces when Rowan moves him and my heart does a little jump. But it’s enough to finally snap me into gear and make me want to help, moving over to the both of them and bending down beside Jimmy, reaching out to carefully take his swollen wrist. Jimmy flinches, as if he wants to pull away, but allows me to continue anyway. The silent gesture of trust gives me such a strange feeling in my gut. I could kinda describe it similarly to butterflies, like when Gerard Way is on TV, but more powerful than that.

Carefully, and not wanting to move around Jimmy’s arm more than I have to, I grab the bottom of my shirt and give it a tug until the already old and worn material rips, tearing it of it off until I knows there’s enough to wrap up Jimmy’s wrist into in makeshift sling. 

I’ve done this before for myself, I know what I’m doing.

"Why're you crying?" 

I didn’t realise I still _was_ crying.

“‘M not.” I mumble, and rub one of my eyes with my shoulder as I tie a firm knot into the bandage. 

This makes Jimmy laugh, for some reason, and the sound makes my heart do another weird flip. It makes me want to be honest.

"Just don't like seeing ya’ hurt," I admit, only making Jimmy giggle again, his fingers stretching out to brush over my hand, leaving the skin tingling where it’s been touched. 

_Wow._

It was like… magic.

"I’m fine," Jimmy says. “It was my idea anyway-”

"And I shouldn't have let you!" I interrupt, tying another knot in the fabric. "Rowan was right, it was so dangerous!"

"Thank you." Rowan mutters from where he's peeling a band-aid.

"Just… next time, I'll sit on the handles okay?" I sit up a bit more, pouting my lips at Jimmy stubbornly as I shift closer, stretching the sling over Jimmy’s head, carefully tucking his bandaged wrist inside it.

“Okay.” Jimmy agrees at the same time Rowan says, “there’s not gonna _be_ a next time,” at the same time as I place my hands on Jimmy’s face, pulling his head forwards and leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

It makes my heart do the knotty thing again.

I’m sure the warm feeling won’t last.  
  


**(Age 16)  
  
**

I am, surprisingly, the only one that _doesn’t_ want to play spin the bottle. 

Rowan does, Jimmy does. That’s also pretty surprising, actually. 

But, of course, ever bending to their wishes, I sit down in the circle with the two of them, very much flustered and tapping my fingers in a beat on the wooden floor under me while the rest of our friends ( _friends_ is a bit of a reach) gather to participate too. I don’t know why I’m feeling so unsure about this situation. Maybe it’s because I’m so tired from exams, or that this is a _school_ party and not one of the exciting famous people parties that we get invited to all the time.

The first uninteresting person has already spun their turn, and the bottle lands on someone equally as uninteresting. The two practically launch at each other to kiss, and the game continues to the throbbing music in the background until it’s Rowan’s turn. 

His bottle lands on a cute looking girl who looks sorta starstruck, and Rowan grins and crawls forwards. It’s really weird nowadays at school, because it’s like everyone _knows_ that we’re sorta famous now and they all listen to our music but the school has pretty much banned any talk about our music, or us. People still do, of course, it's just in quiet hushes. 

I like it, being popular, even though there's all these people who used to hate me that try to befriend me now. Same with Jimmy and Rowan too, but they were always likeable. I suppose it feels good to be better than them now. 

A few more people spin the bottle on their go until it reaches Jimmy who reaches out looking a bit more nervous than he did at the start of the game.

_Here we go,_ I think, unhopeful. Not that I was hopeful that the bottle would land on me, or unhopeful that it wouldn’t - there was what, a 13 to 1 chance that it might - which is pretty unlikely. But I really didn’t care, I just didn’t want to have to watch my best mate kiss a stranger in front of me. 

Not that it was any of my business, who Jimmy snogged, and behind closed doors he could do what he wanted obviously. I just didn’t want to see it. Yeah. That was it. It wasn’t _anything_ to do with the weird feeling that always appeared in my stomach when I saw Jimmy, or how I didn’t care what _Rowan_ did infront of me. 

Oh, you know what, it’s probably just because Jimmy is a few months younger than me and Rowan. I definitely just because I want to make sure he’s safe.

“Lister.” Someone says my name, and I glance towards the voice, finding that it was Jimmy, and he was looking all shy and coy and I _bet_ it was because the bottle landed on that tosser Kevin with his stupid blonde curls- 

“Lister!” Jimmy says again, and reaches out to touch my shoulder, voice all amused. His cheeks are flushed pink too. Has he been drinking? I know some of the older kids at the party brought some drinks with him, but Jimmy never seemed like the kind to be interested in getting _drunk_. 

“You okay to do this?” 

“Do this? Jimmy- you can kiss whoever you want to-”

A few people giggle, and I’m ready to storm off, over this rubbish game. But then I see the bottle, and it actually _is_ pointing at me. And the first thing my body decides to do is flush bright pink and jerk away from Jimmy, knocking over a glass of lemonade in the process from the person sitting beside him.

It must have been a big enough movement that Jimmy’s eyebrows pull together in a frown, and he almost looks upset, and I want to reach out and - and what? _Kiss_ him? Tell him that I didn’t move away because the thought grosses me out, because it doesn’t, I _don’t_ feel grossed out. I was just surprised. Why _am_ I surprised? Why does my stomach feel all gooey and tight? 

“I’ll spin again!” Jimmy announces, breaking my train of thoughts by reaching for the bottle, but I can’t let him because what would be worse than him kissing Jimmy now is having Jimmy kiss someone else. 

“No! I’ll do it.” He says, hoping his voice isn’t as shaky as I think it is. "I’ll kiss anyone once." I quickly add, trying to grin, making everyone in the circle giggle. I think Jimmy probably sees through it. 

Of course he does.

But still, Jimmy nods, shuffles a little closer, reaching out his hand to touch the side of my arm - his fingers are like electricity and this makes my chest erupt in what feels like an explosion. I don’t even know why I’m feeling like this. I don’t think I could even describe these feelings _to_ someone to get them to tell me what it means. 

I don’t even _like_ boys- I mean, I don’t _think_ I do. 

“Are you okay?” Jimmy is a lot closer than I realised, his breath little puffs of air against my face. I’ve never been this close to someone before. His hair tickles my face, and it makes me smile a bit, which makes him smile back. My chest feels like it has something trapped inside of it again.

It’s brief, when I finally lean forwards to press our lips together, surprising Jimmy enough that he laughs, pulling back with a large _mwah_ sound and reaching forwards to ruffle my hair because I’m fairly sure, at this point, that he didn’t just go through the same experience I did. 

The game carries on fairly quickly after that. Or maybe it never stopped

I just sit there confused. I badly want to kiss him again. 

**(Age 19)**

It was all Jimmy. 

Jimmy in my mind, swimming around and- and polluting my thoughts.

The room spins, or my head spins, I’m not sure. But I have to put a hand on the side of my face to steady myself while I stumble into a toilet cubicle, collapsing on top of the toilet lid and lifting the bottle of _whatever_ I'm holding to my lips, reaching my legs up to place them on the wall adjacent and slumping down.

I'm so sick of it all. The fans, the pressures, it was great going to parties and kissing strangers but it was so _tiring_. 

I'm _so_ tired. 

Who even _cares_ about the show anymore. Who cares about anything. Everything was fake, especially pigeons, they were just little drones that watched people sent from the government. I can't help but grin in amusement at that thought. Jimmy would probably laugh too.

Jimmy. My jimjam. Maybe I could go grab him and we would go run away together. Be in love or something.

I can remember exactly when the realisation hit, not when we first kissed, that was more like the realisation that I liked boys too, but during our first recording session. Our first _proper_ one, when he stood in that little booth with the microphone hanging from the ceiling and Rowan and I were sitting there gawking for completely different reasons. It was like this blow to the chest, like suddenly the universe aligned and it all made sense - and sure it was fine for a while, the longing, the watching, seeing him kiss idiots at parties, looking after him. Keeping my distance. 

But then it starts to hurt, and you start to just want them 'coz you know how good you can be for them but deep down you know it's- it’s useless, it’s wrong. It's obsessive. You can't make someone fall in love with you. I know, I tried, I keep trying. I should go to therapy. 

The alcohol is putting a blurry line between the things I want to see and the things I see. Because aside from all that _pining_ there's these glances Jimmy gives me, and the way he cares so much, the way he goes out his way to include me. It has to count for something. You don't treat someone like that who you don't love. Ever since we were kids, all those awkward moments. Maybe he does like me back. Maybe I just need to be the first to tell him. Explain it to him.

It was probably a bad idea. And Jimmy was definitely talking about something important. When did he even get here? I was _definitely_ arguing with him about something now, and words were _for sure_ coming out my mouth that I didn't mean but words were coming out Jimmy's mouth too. Maybe. And his lips were definitely… right there.

And then we were hugging, which was nice, against the sink, with our chests pressed together. It's all so fuzzy, and Jimmy's hand is on my back, or maybe in my hair, and I swear I'm not _that_ drunk, except Jimmy has noticed now, that is, me tracing his collarbone with the tip of my finger, and he's stopped talking, and he's just looking at me like he knows what's going to happen, and it feels like time has slowed down-

I don't even register what I'm doing until our lips are pressed together. Is Jimmy even kissing back? I feel like my stomach is going to explode. Where are we again? A bathroom, somewhere backstage? The show is on soon.

My heart hurts, and there's something inside of me telling me to stop, to not tell him like this. There would be better ways, more days, don't give it all up in a messy drunken kiss. You could sit down with him, wait till the tour is over, wait a couple more years for there to be not so much at stake. But I'm so lonely.

My head hurts. But Jimmy feels so warm under me, and Jimmy's hands are so nice on my shoulders, squeezing, pushing. Pushing? 

We part, and it only hits me when I open my eyes and see the shocked look on Jimmys face, the soft words coming out his mouth. 

"Don't. Don't do that." 

That's not good. He's supposed to be happy. 

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Jimmy doesn't say anything back, so I keep talking, pulling him back in for another hug maybe out of desperation because if I'm holding him then he can't vanish. Don't vanish. Please. I don't have anyone else.

I'm rambling more, and I really shouldn't, because when I ramble bad things always happen. 

"I don't hate you," Jimmy's voice is so shaky, I can't even remember asking him if he did, but now my stomach hurts for another reason. I feel sick again, and my heart is beating so fast. It feels like anxiety, and I sort of want to run away. Or jump off a cliff. I’m so dramatic. 

Time starts again, and I manage to let out a little shaky breath, pulling back and letting my vision blur and letting the alcohol wash over the feeling and the memories. Maybe I had better start believing in God and praying that I won't remember this.

Jimmy’s still standing there against the sink, but I’m walking off now, letting the haze and the music coming from the stage drown me.

"Only one more show! Then we can rest in peace!” 

**(Age 21)**

It was a good show. It had been such a good show. Our first show in a long time that hadn’t been messed up by unrequited feelings, wild fans, anxiety attacks or alcohol. It feels how it used to feel, adrenaline pumping through my body and my heart beating a million miles per second. It was good. 

And I didn’t have any feelings for Jimmy anymore. 

“Lister-” Jimmy is just as breathless as me, standing there panting after just having walked off stage, the hair covering his forehead wet from sweat and his eyes all golden from the lights. The cheers from the crowd being drowned out by my loudly beating heart.

Okay. I probably still had some feelings for him. My therapist said that they would probably linger, but that was okay. The important part was to not let them get the better of me and sabotage the friendship.

Jimmy was moving closer though, and his cheeks were bright pink.

“Come here”

Maybe I could sabotage our friendship a little.

His hands are sliding up my chest, stopping over my heart, he could probably feel how fast it was beating. 

Fuck. 

It’s so intimate. 

His fingers slide around the collar of my shirt, fingers dancing across my neck. We’ve never touched each other like this before, so what made him want to? Was he just living in the moment? We should probably talk about it.

“Jimmy… you sure you wanna-” I find myself asking instead, my own hands on his cheeks, sliding backwards into his hair.

We should definitely talk about it.

“Yes. You?”

Jimmy’s already leaning up, on his tippy toes, and it’s a very very bad idea. About a million and two thoughts pass through my head of things I should say. Like why me? Why now? What if Rowan comes around the corner or one of the producers? Is this going to just be a kiss, or does it mean something? 

“G-god yeah.”

But that’s what I say instead, and close the distance between us, feeling like my whole body is on fire as our lips meet.

It feels like something has ended and started at the same time.

**(Age 23)**

It’s a bad night. 

I’m having a bad night. 

It’s… what, two in the morning? I reach across to smack my phone until it comes on, light blaring in my face as it reads four a.m. angrily at me. Great. Even better.

My bed feels all lumpy under me, and my fingers itch, and my neck hurts. It’s times like this when it gets hard to not just reach for a bottle of alcohol or something. I fight the urge, and turn on my side, grabbing my phone and unlocking it so I can stare at the time more.

This is always how it went. Everytime after we kissed, there was this weird awkward parting before I would go to my room and stare at the ceiling and try to convince myself that I was fine.

Except it wasn’t fine. It hurt. Because Jimmy would always be so- so _into_ it, and happy, and his smile would be so big and his hands would be everywhere on my body until there was a noise from someone else, or- or it was like he would suddenly remember who we both are. And then his blush would fade, and he would get all nervous and panicky and I would have to wrap my arms around him and hold him until his breathing calmed down. 

Jimmy would _always_ end up telling me afterwards that, “we’re in a band, and we can’t just _be_ together, there’s so much more to it.” As if I even had a chance of that anyway. 

Every time, without fail, he would cup my cheek with his palm, and kiss my forehead, and say “You’re my best friend, I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose you,” and I would always reply with, “as you wish.” 

That’s a lie, actually, I’ve never said that in my life because I’m not a farm boy and life isn’t a fairytale.

Tonight was no exception to this either, hanging backstage together at this local pub after a gig. It was sort of spontaneous, there was no set up or planning. We literally just got asked by the pub owner - of whom Rowan _immediately_ fancied after she admitted to not actually knowing who we were, just that we were attracting a lot of attention - if we wanted to jam because they had some spare equipment out the back. 

It was great, and by about one in the morning the venue was empty again. Including Rowan, who had grinned sheepishly and told us that he was going to spend the night at that same girls house.

The lights were off, doors locked, and Jimmy was sitting up on a table with an acoustic guitar, playing softly and humming lyrics of something I didn’t know quietly to himself. I almost felt bad for interrupting, he looked so beautiful, dappled in moonlight that streamed through the high windows. Almost like clockwork, he looked up to meet my eyes, a soft blush covering his cheeks as I walked up to him, reaching out to slide my fingers up his knee. 

He smiled - _I remember how sincere he looked_ \- but didn’t stop singing.

“Take me up, tight,”

Even I had to admit something felt different this time, although I couldn’t place what. It was like he liked me. I doubted that.

“Strong,” he murmured, strumming his fingers slowly down the strings, changing frets carefully, “-up like a kite-” 

Maybe I was overthinking this situation. But it was almost like he was singing to me. 

“-dumb,” His voice was so fond, “wicked, and white,” 

I couldn’t be imagining it, could I?

“Love me in spite, and if I betrayed our lonely nights,”

I opened my mouth, words caught in my throat.

“Spent. Out like a light. With, no kiss goodnight. We never fight, when I’m away, ohh-”

It was so sincere that it hurt, and my brain felt - still feels like... like it’s playing a massive trick on me. I couldn’t have read everything wrong, there's no way he _actually_ had _feelings_ for me. No one had feelings for me, I was just that guy that you slept with, I was just a laugh. Jimmy and I had no _actual_ future together. I couldn’t have gotten it wrong this whole time. I couldn’t have gotten all those moments wrong, brushed them off when they actually meant something, when Jimmy was trying to tell me something- I needed to talk, needed to tell him that I wanted to be more than just- just friends who- 

“Did your mother always seem to hate me? I'm sicker every day, and now I'm terrified of talking to my friends only to stay stuck-”

-kissed sometimes. 

“-dreaming of our first born, and your hair covered in popcorn.”

His voice breaks, he looks shaky.

“You never leave, you never leave, never leave-

And then of course, of course. 

_Of course._

One of the workers that night had forgotten something and walked in, and just like that the moment was ruined because Jimmy was scrambling away, eyes so wide and scared that it reminded me too much of that night in the bathroom. He leaves, and with the song still buzzing around my head I have to beg this poor lady to not lady to not tell anyone about what she just saw.

I had rushed outside to try and find Jimmy after that, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, and when I finally managed to get a cab home his bedroom door was shut. 

And just like that, the hope fades, replaced with the knowledge that there’s no way he wants to be with me. With someone like me.

"Fucks sake!" I hiss out loud into the stillness of my bedroom, grabbing a pillow to cover up my face, tempted to scream into it but resisting the urge in favour for rolling onto my back and throwing it at the wall.

I groan, and stretch my arms out above my head, and stare up at the ceiling, wishing life _was_ a fairytale because then this all might actually work out. My stomach hurts again, and my head is going to be throbbing tomorrow, and I hate sleeping alone and I miss Jimmy. 

I find myself getting to my feet, leaving my room and carefully walking down the familiar hallway until I get to Jimmy’s room. We used to do this all the time, I'm not sure why we stopped.

I don’t plan to go inside, I don’t plan to do anything, I think I just wanted to make sure he was still there. 

His door was open now, and the room was silent apart from his little huffs of breath, and I promise myself I’m going to turn around and go back to my own room because 4:13am is not the time to talk about feelings or-

“Lister?” Comes a soft voice, and the next second, like clockwork, Jimmy’s light goes on. He sits up, stifling a yawn, his hair all messy and spiking up in every direction, his eyes look sunken and I suddenly realise he’s been crying. 

He’s so tired. 

Shit. This was such a bad idea. My heart sinks further in my chest, my stomach drops, but I can’t just leave now.

“Are you a’ight?” His voice is all hoarse and scratchy. I can’t really talk back, I don’t trust myself to, but I do move forwards until my knees hit the side of his bed and Jimmy throws back the covers so I can crawl up beside him. 

It shouldn't be so easy.

My body shudders when arms wrap around my shoulders and fingers sink into my hair. I want to cry. Jimmy must know this too, because now I’m being practically engulfed into his arms and pulled into his chest. I’m the one that’s supposed to be there for him. 

I think I sob, because Jimmy is hushing me and holding me really tight, stroking his hand backwards through my hair until I can’t breathe, choking on my own tears.

I don’t know how long passes while I cry into Jimmy's chest, but by the end of it he's still there, continuously pressing kisses to the top of my head while his hands dance over the skin on my back.

I can think a little easier now, and stretch out my fingers over Jimmy’s chest where they’re tucked, inhaling slowly. Jimmy smells really nice, but that realisation just makes my chest hurt more. 

I can’t hold it in anymore. At least I’m not drunkenly confessing to him in a bathroom this time.

“I really- really like you,” That feels impossible to say, even with my voice being half muffled by Jimmy’s shirt. 

“I like you too.” Jimmy says back, but his words burn. Because it’s not the _same_ like. 

This isn't a four am conversation.

“At the- at the pub last night-” I take a deep breath, “when we were almost seen, and I… I don’t want you to… have to panic about that-” 

Jimmy is quiet, but his hand strokes through my hair, he must be thinking.

“I understand if you want to keep what we do hidden, but, I... don’t think I can anymore.” I don’t dare move, “-and I don’t want to force you into anything that you might not be ready for. But it’s too much for me, and I can’t keep dragging it on.”

Except maybe the only reason I’m letting these feelings out is because it _is_ four a.m.

The silence is deafening, and Jimmy takes his time, gently running his fingers through my hair. I feel like I’m going crazy.

“Okay.” Jimmy says, but I keep talking instead of stopping to listen.

“-and- regardless of your answer, we will be friends, I will always be your friend, I just need to know what I am to you. Because-” I’m rambling now, “because I liked you, and then I didn’t as much, and then we started kissing, and now I don’t-”

“Okay.” Jimmy interrupts again, this time with his hands on my face, his eyes all wide. 

_Okay_. 

It rings in my ears. What does that even mean? Can’t he say something bloody helpful? My eyes well up again, and I push myself backwards, bottom lip wobbling.

“What does that- what does that mean- it’s- I lay my heart on my _sleeve_ for you and you respond with _‘okay’_ -”

“Lister!” Jimmy’s hands are on my face, they’re so warm. “I said okay.” His lip is wobbling too, he looks as scared as I am. “Okay, you’re right. Okay, we can - I want to try. Okay, I don’t-” Jimmy takes a deep breath and a tear runs down his cheek while he rubs his thumb under my eye, because I’m crying too apparently. “ _Okay_ , I don’t want to hide anymore either.”

_Oh._

For the first time ever, I don’t have anything to say. But I’m lucky because Jimmy knows, and he gently touches my bottom lip like it’s the most natural thing to do, before leaning in to press the sweetest kiss to my lips. 

It's the first time _he's_ kissed _me_.

His hands slide over the back of my neck, and soon enough we are just pressing our foreheads together.

“You’re- you didn’t get that from the song? I thought my heart was going to burst-”

I sniffle, and shake my head, needily leaning up to press another wet, tear drenched kiss to his lips. I didn’t get that, I thought it was just a friend thing. 

We pull away, and he sinks his head into my neck, still holding me tight.

“We need to… talk more in the morning. About this. About how everyone is gonna find out. Especially Rowan, and, I… don’t think it’s gonna be easy. But I really wanna try.”

I nod, and sniffle again, and I can feel sleep beginning to take a hold of my body. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

Jimmy nods, and kisses my forehead again, reaching to turn the light back off before snuggling back in close to me. His head is under my chin now, his arms on my chest, and mine stretch around him. Our legs slide together too, entwining under the covers while his fingers slowly run down my arm, giving me tiny electric shocks until he gets to my hand and hooks his pinky around my thumb. 

"...stay, tonight." It comes in a small voice, and I realise he was probably having a sleepless night too. 

I nod, and hold him close, and listen to the sound of his breaths until I can feel myself drifting off. 

"Yeah, course." 

A few more moments pass, or maybe minutes, and my voice is so croaky when I speak. “Does-.. Can I call you my b-boyfriend now?” I don’t know why that’s so hard to say after everything else we have been through.

Jimmy squeezes his arms around me and gives a small, tired nod. 

“Yeah. I would like that.”

  
  


**Bonus.**

Maybe I was making it up but _I_ thought Jimmy fit into my arms _perfectly_. 

He was a bit shorter than me, so when we kissed he had to stand on his toes or lean his head upwards. I would always wrap my arms around his waist to help pull him in close. At least I told myself I was helping, sometimes I just liked the feeling of him pressed against me.

I say this as if we’ve been together for years. We haven’t, it’s only been two nights. Officially. (But we _had_ kissed a _lot_ in those two nights.) 

Like right now, except with Jimmy’s hands digging into my waist and my arms over his shoulders. My back was pressed into the kitchen counter too, albeit uncomfortably - which I take full credit for, because we hadn’t started out against the kitchen counter. 

We had started with making tea (at too-early o’clock) because we wanted to prepare before Rowan got home from his new sorta-dates house. I had been practically falling asleep against Jimmy’s back as Jimmy stood there anxiously looking out one of the large windows at the snow, dressed in tight black underwear and an oversized black sweater that, to my defence, hung _too_ low around his neck for me to _not_ want to cover the bare skin with kisses.

Which I did, of course, if not for my own enjoyment but to help Jimmy feel a little less worried about the events of the day. Which is how we ended up against the counter in an embrace, pressed back into it with Jimmy’s face tucked into my neck, his hands playing with the hem of my shirt and my own fingers stroking upwards through his hair.

I can’t help my grin.

“God.” Comes a third voice, and Jimmy jumps as if he's about to spring away from me. 

I get ready to make up an excuse.

Except, _except_ this he squeezes his hands on my waist tighter, and lets out a little breath, and sinks back against me. My heart jumps in joy.

I don’t even realise that Rowan is standing there, looking disgruntled and a bit sleep deprived in a jumper that isn’t his and his jeans from last night. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm happy, but are you two-” he waved his hand in the air, “ _always_ gonna be like this now _?_ ”

It doesn’t really surprise me that he already sort of knew. I suppose, from an outsider’s view, it was easy to see how much we were dancing around each other’s feelings.

Jimmy just nods against my neck, cheeks burning with red.

I throw Rowan an unhelpfully sheepish grin. “Yeah. I suppose.”


End file.
